Our family business goes bankrupt, and my father decides we need to flee the country. As we approach the airport, a sleek black Maybach suddenly cuts us off, blocking the road completely. “Trying to skip town without settling your debt?” The cold, menacing voice comes from inside the car. Stepping out is Julian Knight, our largest creditor. A burly bodyguard in black drags my father out of the driver’s seat, forcing him to his knees with a harsh kick. My father crumples to the ground in front of Julian, bowing his head desperately. “Please, sir, have mercy. I… I have no way to repay the debt.” Julian presses the tip of his polished shoe against my father’s chin, lifting his face. “No money? Then give me your daughter. That will clear your debt.” Relief flashes across my father’s face. Without a moment’s hesitation, he scrambles to his feet, yanks me out of the back seat, and shoves me toward Julian. “This is my mute daughter, Celeste,” he says eagerly. “From now on, she’s yours. Do with her whatever you want.”
I stumbled backward, panic flooding through me as I looked at my father with pleading eyes, begging him not to do this. But he remained unmoved. “I’ve let you live a privileged life for years, even though you’re mute. I’ve fulfilled my duty as a father. Now it’s your turn to repay me.” As if afraid Julian might change his mind, my father hurried back to the car, threw one last cold command my way—”Make sure you serve him well!”—and slammed his foot on the gas, speeding off with the rest of my family without a backward glance. “Come with me,” Julian said, his cold fingertips brushing against my wrist. A shiver ran down my spine, and before I could stop myself, I bolted, running after my father’s car as it disappeared into the night. A bodyguard in black effortlessly tripped me with a subtle nudge of his foot, sending me crashing to the ground. My head hit the pavement with a sickening thud, and the rough asphalt scraped against my elbows and knees, leaving patches of raw, bloody skin. The same bodyguard hauled me up like I weighed nothing, tossing me into the back seat of the Maybach. The driver started the car, heading straight for Knight Estate. The night deepened, and in the dim glow of the car’s interior, Julian sat in the front seat, his expression cold and unreadable. His voice, low and laced with irritation, broke the silence. “Didn’t you have a crush on me in college? You should be thrilled to marry me now. But instead, you’re trying to run away? Hah. Women really are fickle.” His words pierced through me, and tears began to stream down my face uncontrollably. Yes, once, I had loved Julian deeply. He was the only person who had ever treated me like an equal. But I never imagined that love could have nearly killed me.
Back in school, I was the outcast. My classmates couldn’t stand me, insisting that someone like me—a mute—didn’t belong in a normal school. They said I should’ve gone to a “special” one, far away from them. No one wanted to sit next to me. Julian, however, willingly offered to take the seat by my side. To me, it was like a drowning person finding a lifeline. I was overwhelmed with gratitude for his kindness, and before I knew it, I had started to develop feelings for him. His friends teased him relentlessly for his “odd taste,” laughing that he’d chosen a mute girl as a desk partner. But Julian just shrugged, his tone light and dismissive. “The other girls are all too noisy. At least she lets me focus.” Quietly, I began showing my affection in small ways. I’d leave breakfast in his locker every morning, and when he missed class because he was sick, I’d meticulously write up notes and slip them into his bag. I knew I didn’t deserve him. I never dared to dream of having him. All I wanted was to see him happy, and I was willing to do anything for him. Then Julian got a girlfriend. Her name was Victoria Hale—beautiful, vibrant, and utterly ruthless. From the very first day of their relationship, Victoria launched what she called her “clean-up campaign,” targeting every girl who so much as glanced at Julian. And as his desk partner, I became her first victim. After school one day, Victoria cornered me with a group of girls. They pushed me to the ground and yanked my bag away, rummaging through it until they found the one thing I feared most—a thick blue notebook filled with pages and pages of my written confessions, all dedicated to Julian. Victoria’s expression darkened as she flipped through the pages. She grabbed my chin and slapped me hard across the face. Then, she tore the notebook apart, plastering five of its pages on the school bulletin board for everyone to see. The next day, the entire school was whispering, laughing behind their hands. A mute girl in love with the school’s most popular guy? It was unthinkable. “Can you believe it? Celeste Whitmore? A mute! And she thinks she has a chance with Julian?” “Julian’s girlfriend is Victoria Hale. What the hell is Celeste thinking?” The laughter stung worse than the slap. Victoria stood at the center of it all, smug and triumphant. I couldn’t even tear the pages down that night. Victoria and her friends had dragged me into the girls’ restroom, drenched me in ice-cold water, and locked me inside until morning. When I finally got home, I came down with a fever that no amount of medication could break. A week later, I was still bedridden, struggling to recover. The doctors eventually diagnosed me with fulminant myocarditis, caused by the cold. I spent a month in the ICU, teetering on the edge of death. When I was finally discharged, the thought of returning to school made my entire body shake. In the end, I had no choice but to take a leave of absence. By the time I mustered the courage to return a year later, Julian and Victoria had already graduated. Only then could I finally finish my studies in peace. Julian’s words about how “women are so fickle” weren’t just meant for me—they were also a jab at Victoria. Victoria was supposed to marry him next week. But just days before the wedding, she vanished. Julian eventually found out where she was—partying overseas with her friends, surrounded by handsome, blond strangers. She’d ignored his calls, turned off her phone, and thrown herself into a whirlwind of wild hedonism. Julian had been livid. To teach Victoria a lesson, he decided to replace her as his bride. And who better to spite her with than me—the one girl Victoria had always loathed most? I’d overheard my father gleefully gossiping about it one evening. “Julian’s had everything handed to him his whole life, and now he’s finally hit a wall with that Victoria girl.” He’d laughed as if Julian’s humiliation somehow eased his own failures. Now, I was to be part of Julian’s revenge. Marrying me was the cruelest way to mock Victoria. But for me, just thinking about Victoria’s face made my heart pound with dread. A sinking feeling settled in my gut. This marriage wasn’t going to be a fresh start. It was going to be the beginning of my end.
My first night at Knight Estate was sleepless. I tossed and turned until dawn, only to finally drift off for a brief moment before being abruptly woken up by Julian’s appointed stylists and makeup artists. They apologized profusely as they informed me of an urgent change: Julian had decided to move the wedding up to today. Unwilling but unable to resist, I was ushered into the dressing room. Julian was already there, his eyes glued to his phone. From the moment I entered to the moment I sat down, he didn’t spare me so much as a glance. The stylist retrieved a mermaid-style wedding gown from the wardrobe. It was stunningly beautiful but tailored for someone else—Victoria. The dress slid off my frame with the slightest movement. It was obvious that it had been designed for Victoria’s curvaceous figure. On my frail and petite body, the dress hung awkwardly, like a child trying on an adult’s clothes. Clutching the edge of the ill-fitting gown, I approached Julian, trying to communicate that the dress didn’t fit and pleading for the wedding to be delayed until a proper gown could be found. I stammered incoherent sounds, gesturing with my hands to express my thoughts. Julian let out an irritated click of his tongue and slammed his phone onto the table. “I thought you were quieter than other women,” he said, his voice cold. “But now I see that your little noises are even more grating. Stop flailing around like a monkey. I don’t understand sign language, and I don’t care to. Just do as you’re told. I don’t have time for your opinions.” My knees wobbled, and my eyes brimmed with tears. The stylist quickly stepped in to diffuse the tension. “We can adjust it, Miss. Don’t worry, it’ll be fine,” she said softly. She took out a needle and thread, pinching the gown tighter to make it fit. The once-beautiful wedding dress now bore obvious folds and stitches on the back—a stark reminder of how this wedding, much like my marriage to Julian, was cobbled together out of necessity rather than love. Once my makeup was done, it was time to head to the venue. But before we could leave, the dressing room door was abruptly kicked open. Victoria had arrived. Julian’s face lit up with triumph. He had deliberately leaked the news about the wedding and my role as the substitute bride, ensuring Victoria would find out. The fact that she showed up now meant his plan had worked. In his mind, this was a victory. Victoria stormed toward me, and in an instant, memories of her past torments flashed through my mind: the blue diary she tore to shreds, the ice-cold water she poured over me, and the nights she locked me in the school restroom while hurling insults from the other side. Did loving someone quietly, from afar, warrant such cruelty? I clenched my fists in defiance. Victoria raised her hand, ready to slap me, but I grabbed her wrist before it could land. My nails dug into her skin, and for the first time, I fought back. “What gives you the right to hit me?” I screamed internally. “Julian was the one who chose to marry me. Why aren’t you taking this up with him?” Victoria winced in pain. “You wretched mute! How dare you fight back!” she spat, her free hand rising for another strike. This time, Julian intercepted her. He stood between us, his expression colder than I’d ever seen. “Get out,” he said, his voice flat but final. Victoria’s fury morphed into desperation as she softened her tone, pleading with Julian. “Julian, please! I just wanted to clear my head before the wedding. I’m back now, and I won’t leave you again. Don’t be mad, okay?” “No,” Julian replied, his tone unwavering. He gestured to his bodyguards, who wasted no time dragging Victoria out of the estate. “Julian, no! Please, I’m sorry! Forgive me!” Victoria’s cries echoed through the hallway. Julian’s lips curled into a smirk. He had no intention of forgiving her so easily. Letting her off now wouldn’t satisfy his need to teach her a lesson. He planned to break her completely before considering reconciliation. The wedding went on as planned, but Julian’s empty gaze as he stood before me made it clear that this was no celebration. His thoughts were miles away, tethered to Victoria, leaving behind only a hollow shell to go through the motions.
That night, in our bridal suite, I grabbed a pen and paper and carefully wrote, “Now that you’ve had your revenge on Victoria, can’t you let me go? Please let me leave.” Julian’s brow furrowed as he grabbed my chin, forcing me to meet his icy gaze. “I married you to erase your family’s one-billion-dollar debt,” he said, his voice low and venomous. “And now you think that debt only buys me one day with you? Like father, like daughter. You’re both delusional.” He leaned in closer, his words biting. “I’ll let you go when I’m done. When I’ve fixed Victoria, when I’m ready to move on—then, and only then, can you leave. Until that day, you’re mine. Don’t even think about running.” Before I could react, Julian’s lips crashed down on mine. His kiss was fierce and punishing, stealing the air from my lungs. I tried to push him away, but it was useless. He ripped the dress from my body, pinning me beneath him. Then, the phone on the bedside table buzzed. Julian smirked, reaching for it. I shook my head frantically, trying to stop him, but he paid no attention. Grabbing my wrists, he pinned them above my head, his movements growing more brutal as he answered the video call. “No!” Victoria’s scream rang out from the other end of the call. “Julian, please stop! Stop torturing me!” she cried. Julian’s voice dripped with mockery. “Couldn’t handle it, could you? Did you ever think about how I felt while you were partying overseas, fooling around with those men?” “I’m sorry!” Victoria sobbed. “I was wrong! Please, tell me what I have to do for you to forgive me. If not, I’ll just end it. I’ll jump!” A sudden gust of wind roared through the phone’s speaker. Victoria stood on a rooftop, her face pale with despair. For the first time that night, fear flickered in Julian’s eyes. He quickly threw on his clothes and left the room without another word. I lay there on the bed, tears streaming down my face. Four years ago, Victoria’s torment had nearly driven me to death. But nothing she did back then compared to the humiliation Julian inflicted tonight. He had stripped me bare—not just physically, but emotionally—offering up my pain as entertainment for Victoria. At that moment, I stopped caring about my father or Julian’s threats. No one had ever asked if I wanted any of this. I wasn’t a commodity. I was a person. I deserved to live, and I deserved my freedom. With the estate guards relaxed after the wedding, tonight was my best chance to escape.
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